


Legend has no gender

by moonlightmalt



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/F, Gen, felt the need to write a trans link, name is Lace. after my linksona, we're gonna do our best i have a lot of writing projects
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21690886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlightmalt/pseuds/moonlightmalt
Summary: The legend of Zelda breath of the wild, as told by trans!link. their name is Lace, and they use she/they. not rly graphic depictions, but there will probably be fight scenes.explanation is that the shrine of resurrection indeed heals you, but in order to heal dysphoria, it gave lace the body she always imagined herself with. sheikah said trans rightsok also i'm on my bs so this is triforce swap link, they have wisdom, zelda has courage, and lace is the daughter of Urbosa and the late Queen of Hyrule. their mothers accepted them as trans, but ofc they don't have any memory of that. Let's say they weren't out bc of societal norms 100 yrs ago, but everyone chilled tf out n realized they had bigger problems, so no more homo/transphobia. idk i'll hammer out the kinks i'm tired n wanna write before my adhd ass gives up on this.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Lace's Awakening

We all know how the legend goes. The Hero, clad in Courageous green of the forest, in order to restore balance and peace to the realm, pushes back hatred and Power incarnate, with the help of the Princess's Wisdom. For what is Courage, without the knowledge to lay rest to your enemies. What is Power, without the Wisdom to utilize it? What is Wisdom, without the Courage to step up and make a change. 

Change affects us all, whether we like to accept it or not. How we change, though. That's something that's in our hands. We may not be fully able to control the cards we're dealt, but how we react and grow with them? That, is something you can decide. Will you let yourself grow strong enough to combat the adversaries and obstacles before you, or will you allow yourself to be consumed by fear, and tragedy?

It's true that we know of the legend. It cycles through, time and time again. Through twilight, endless seas and skies, time, space, and over vast lands. These tales are often lacking color. Sure, they paint a picture, and that picture may be beautiful, and complex, and bright, but how many of us common folk can relate to a white man who can do it all. And if we can, how much does that tale resonate with us? Legends shouldn't be painted in black and white, but in full color. 

Maybe if power wasn't shunned by the world, it wouldn't resort to corruption. Maybe if courage was shown only malice, and hatred, the world wouldn't be saved. Maybe wisdom can corrupt as much as power, if held by the wrong people, or in the wrong amounts. The cycle is always turning, but its cogs aren't always the same. In this Legend, we will explore a different kind of cycle. One where the cogs of history were misplaced, and how that affected the world.

* * *

Picture a room, filled only with a young woman. If one could see, they would find the floor and walls to be made of a type of ancient ceramic material, harder than steel, but lighter than most metals. The woman's eyes flutter open, unconcerned about their surroundings. How could they be? For all they could tell, their eyes could have still been closed. No breeze or sound complements the room's interior. Nor does any danger, any fear. 

Suddenly, the woman felt something. Rising from the depths of the floor, a strange, blue liquid began to fill the room. Soon it would encompass them, but only in sensations of comfort, and belonging. It rose past their hips, their waist, their shoulders, lifting them up, helping them rise. Fear not, for the woman could still breathe, even when the water began to lap at the top of their head, and higher still.

They are safe, and far, far away from the weight of the world that has been forced upon their shoulders. All the expectations of those who they protect, who they care for, are absent. They're free to exist in peace, and to live their own life, as they've always wished. They've been given a new form to aid them in doing so; one that suits them better, will make them happier. 

One can only hope that this peace will last for their adventure. 

* * *

"Link."

Two roasted almond eyes shot open. Rapidly, they blinked the light into themselves, adjusting from an unknowable duration of being shut. Several thoughts swarmed in their head. "Where am I? I don't recognize any of this." But what could an amnesiac recognize, after all. The world was entirely new to them, and this was a fresh start. And of course, we know how this tale begins. Donning a slate of unimaginable power, an old pair of shorts, boots, and a shirt, Lace walked out into the open air, excitedly taking in the view around them. The mysterious voice doesn't yet know that their friend is no longer who they knew, but of course, she'll learn in time.


	2. Fresh Air, Strange World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lace fuccs arnd n talks to the old man.

Lace felt the breeze on her skin; A warm, inviting breath of fresh air filled their lungs. The view below them was, frankly, beautiful. The sights beyond filled their heart with wonder, and an ache to explore. Thankfully, they'd have plenty of time to do so. The real question was, where to start first? 

They rechecked their surroundings, and found someone, about their height, wrapped in a hood and traveler's garb; boots, gloves, a serviceable shirt and pants. Not anything special, mind you. Enough to keep a sturdy grip on one's tools, and inventory. 

Were they closer, they would have locked eyes, but as it were, the two living souls.... Ah. Well, in any case, distance kept them from meeting much more than a look at each other, before the stranger walked comfortably back to his makeshift camp underneath an overhang. 

Once more; Nothing special. A lantern on a walking stick, a campfire in the center of some dead and patchy grass, surrounded by quite the opposite. dirt and green grass, full of life seemed to be everywhere, and it was nice. 

Lace made note of them, and continued on at her own pace. They swallowed, and tried their voice. How long since they've spoken? How much longer, since they'd conversed? "Hhh.." A cough, clearing their throat. "Hello. I'm... lost? Not quite. I mean, I _hardly_ know where I am, but it's not as if I'm _headed_ anywhere, either," they tested, only for their own ears.

Branches and trees dotted their path before them, as did some mushrooms, which they took curiosity in. Upon approaching them, and picking some up, a vibration emanated from their hip. Lace scrunched their nose at the sudden sensation, not quite enjoying it, but knowing enough to check what their new... slate, was it? was up to.

"Storage functionality intact. Store Hylian Shroom?" it read, on screen. Um. "Yes?" They clicked, and a gasp escaped them as the weight of mushroom was suddenly gone, replaced by strands of blue light, which were absorbed and dissipated into the Sheikah slate. 

Lace's mind raced at trying to figure out had just happened. There was an option to take the shrooms back out, and so they did, and sure enough, in a matter of seconds, they were back in their hands. They beamed absolute joy through grins and giggles, putting it in, taking it out, trying this with their clothes. 

It seemed there was an equipment section of the slate!! How useful, this was. They were thinking that these clothes would do for now, but wouldn't it be nice to have something more like that stranger's setup? Climbing the rock ledge in the cave they were in was doable, of course, but left their hands just a little sore. 

Oh!! Right, they weren't alone. Ah, well. They weren't in a hurry, and had plenty of daylight ahead of them. If camp person wanted to talk, they would have to wait. Lace's slate was quickly becoming less empty, as it was filled with apples, mushrooms, and a few tree branches. 

How strange, that it would classify these as weapons. That it would know to do so, have the capacity for categorizing like this. What a lovely device!! Lace had decided the breeze was nice enough, and the weather warm enough, that they wanted to go with their sports bra they woke up with, and the shorts they'd found. 

They happily made their way down to the camp, greeting its maker. As it were, Lace was looking down to meet his gaze. 

"Hey there!!"

"Oho ho!! Well met, stranger!! It's rather unusual to see another soul in these parts."

Lace tilted their head, brow raising. "Why's that?"

"Ah, have you not yet noticed?"

"I just woke up... I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Mr...?"

"Ah, I'm just an old fool who has lived here, alone, for quite some time now. However, to answer your question, you and I are on a plateau, hundreds of feet off the surrounding area."

"This place is _floating!?_ That's absurd!!!"

The old man bellowed a deep, hearty laugh, moved by Lace's childlike wonder and naivety.

"Ohohoho, I mean no rudeness, young one. I should have explained more clearly. We're quite connected to the ground, you see. Imagine us on a relatively flat mountain; much less sloped, and less rocky. Though you'll find we do have a peak or three up north."

"Ah, that's a little disappointing. I was already wondering at the technology or even the architecture of a floating monument. Well, this world looks wide enough to house things of all sorts. Maybe I'll find something like that eventually."

"I sincerely hope you do!! You're quite right; there are many wonders waiting to be discovered, surely there will be something that you seek. Forgive me, what may I call you?"

"That. Is a good question. L'Ceille is m name, so I suppose that works just fine. I believe I've been called Lace, for short. So. You have your pick, I suppose. Shall I continue as calling you Old Fool?" They smirked, teasing their new acquaintance. 

A chuckle burst forth from the man, as he slapped his hand on his knee, appreciating the jab. He supposed he deserved it after all this time, but there would be time for that. 

"I've been called worse, my friend. Come, sit. I've baked some extra apples, should you hunger from your rest."

That did sound tempting. Lace supposed they wouldn't mind some company for a bit. They did have lots of questions about this plateau, after all, and who better than a resident of who knows how long? Yes, this would be a nice spot to rest for a bit. 

And so they went on like that, well into the afternoon, exchanging tidbits, food. Lace, finding more about themselves through talking to someone else, which was much needed, as they couldn't shake the feeling they were forgetting something. Maybe it'd come back in time. For now, though, this was nice. And that was enough for them.


	3. Mismatched, removed from time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little spout of sorts between a traveler, and an old fool.
> 
> Cifics are fantasy pronouns in this fic, i wanted something that felt like it fit more. short for spe/cific/ations
> 
> I imagine that Lace, despite losing their memories, still has residual echoes of feelings from their past life.

"Tell me, L'Cielle. You've been conscious for not a full day, and you must have questions. Are you in need of a place to rest?"

Clouds gingerly floated overhead, shadowing the small expanse of camp the two shared, lazily trailing a sweet, comforting summer breeze. Lace was preoccupied still, with the world around them, taking in each new sight as something dear, and precious, yet heart-warmingly simple. Peaceful, one could suggest. A squirrel collecting nuts scattered across the forest floor, a scant few meters away. An old, sturdily crafted Woodcutter's Axe propped up against a log. Birds circling something in the distance, leaves fluttering in the wind.

Neither party was in need of a swift answer, and knew this was true for the other. Silence without need of being filled, and all that.

"I think," They started, between bites of baked apple-shroom kabob, swallowing a mouthful, "that I'd like to explore around for a while yet before deciding."

The man considered this, nodding slowly to them, seeming to consider himself before speaking. "I trust you're capable of such. Do be on your guard, my girl-"

A sneer. Something didn't land- No, something about that just... felt _Wrong,_ to Lace. Inherently, and vehemently. The thought of this man calling them something dainty and small, **(Irrelevant. Disputed. Silenced.)** and _his,_ no less, twisted every nerve in their gut, their very being.

"Eugh- No, no, no," their head shook, "I won't be having you address me with _That_ , again."

"Pardon me?"

"I... I said..." They trailed off, clutching a fistful of hair, eyes glossing over, quickly losing steam. "I told you..."

* * *

A swath of red carpet echoed before her, repeating in every which direction, no end in sight. Flawless stone walls staggered only by pennants bearing the royal insignia hung with obnoxious order, and the occasional window deterring the nightmare of flooring. One blink. Another. A young princess stops dead in a hallway, as if lost, and chances glancing at the ceiling, thankful for something making sense. Just a hallway, nothing more. Although, she doesn't recall the ends- corners? Of said structure being so fuzzy.

Whatever daze she was in seemed to have cleared enough to reveal a towering figure, mere feet away from her, scowling and rancorous.

"My dear, I've told you time and time again, it is unbefitting of a princess to roam free and lack a sense of responsibility to her kingdom. Why, what would the neighboring kingdoms think, hearing Hyrule's heiress stoops to the mischief and tomfoolery of, of commoners?"

"Maybe they'd be thankful their next ruler wouldn't be so far removed from them," she sneered back, crossing her arms.

"You are to watch your language," he drawled. "Fates, when did you learn to talk back to your King? Need I remind you that a Princess need be-"

"Enough!! I know, father. You've drilled it in so far as to come out the other side of my head, and yet you never cease!! If I'm not all that a princess needs to be, then... then maybe I'm not fit after all."

"Nonsense!! You are my daughter, and-"

"I'm not your anything!! If you want a doll to control, why not ask your wretched advisor for a suitable puppet? I'm _sick_ of having to be posh and delicate, and fragile, and all of these things that I'm _clearly_ not meant to be!! You're stifling me, father, and I'm not some- some _thing,"_ she spat, "to be broken in."

"Not another word. You are to return to your quarters, and reflect on your behavior, and your delusions. I will post Ser Z__d_ by your door to deter you from escaping. When you have calmed down, we can have another discussion about this attitude of yours," the King barked, turning on his heel and leaving through a slammed door, that hadn't seemed to be there moments ago.

Erratic breathing wracked the would-be heiress, the hall around them twisting, constricting any room for comfort or sturdy footing. Clanking metal footsteps and a flash of shoulder-length golden hair encompassed what was left of their senses before they dropped to the floor, failing to catch their breath. Vision swimming, the carpet began to unfold infinitely before her again, stone walls crumbling, flags burning- a vile scent worse than death emanating from them. Shadow drowned bloody eyes lazing all directions before snapping their attention to a crumpled form, folding in on themselves.

* * *

Dark brown eyes shot open, bringing consciousness to our young wanderer. They take a few slow blinks, adjusting to the soft glow of light around them. Lace sits up, taking a moment to gain their bearings; dappled moonlight cascading through the forest leaves, flora and fauna all around them. In particular, a pair of deer and their mother were sleeping a few yards away, and a certain blue and white flower was blooming near Lace's head. An outlining indentation in the grass indicated they must have been out for a while. Their newly dirtied clothes, and concerning amount of dislodged rocks around them suggested they had quite the tumble. 

That, and the fact that last they remember, it was daylight, and they were talking to.....Ugh. A piercing ring blows through their head, blowing any chance of recollection out of the water. Is that why their head hurt so much? Come to think of it, their whole body was aching, and they didn't seem to recognize their surroundings.

Perhaps some exploring was in order. With sluggish, weighted movement, Lace pushed themselves up off the ground, and began their stroll through the woods, a faint throbbing barely present in their mind.


End file.
